Everything in One Place
by HecateA
Summary: It's hard to tell what Kingsley would be fired for first: obstruction of justice, sheltering a criminal, getting together with said criminal, or slowly but surely stealing his things back from the evidence room. Drabble series.
1. The Leather Jacket

**Author's Note: **So here we are! If you've read my other Kingsley/Sirius fic, you might recognize the moment below from _When the Search is Over, _but I thought that there was potential in the premise of Kingsley slowly stealing back Sirius' things. With some prompting from other writers, I've decided to make this the first chapter of a multiple-part drabble series about Sirius' things coming back to him. Woohoo! That being said, if you have item requests or recommendations please tell me in reviews! I'll be happy to write them for you. Otherwise, enjoy the story!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Beta: **Aya

**Warnings: **Implied PTSD (Azkaban).

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**Stacked with: **MC4A; Shipping War; Hogwarts

**Individual Challenge(s): **Gryffindor MC; Bow Before the Blacks; Brush; Seeds; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Trope It Up C (Secret Relationship); Themes and Things A (Love); Themes and Things B (Loss); Ethnic & Present; True Colours; Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Flags & Ribbons; Letter of the Day; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Two Cakes!

**Word Count: ** 1115

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_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Kingsley Shacklebolt/Sirius Black

**List (Prompt): **Spring Micro 1 (Boxes)

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_**Hogwarts Submitting Info**_

**House: **Ravenclaw

**Assignment: **Assignment #1, Muggle Music : Pop - Write about something generic meaning something special to someone and the reason why.

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**Everything in One Place**

**1**

**Jacket **

This was by far Kingsley's most ambitious move yet—which was saying something. He had, after all, spent all summer pretending to look for a man whose exact location he was more than intimately aware of. If he'd been honest for a single second, Kingsley could have given Scrimgeour the exact thread count for his most wanted criminal's sheets.

But today he'd taken this even further. His heart should have been beating in his throat as he smuggled the evidence box out of the Ministry, but he retained his usual cool and composed demeanour as he walked out. Nobody stopped him, nobody looked at him, and Kingsley didn't even crack a smile at his victory until he was well within the safety of 12 Grimmauld Place.

He found Sirius at the kitchen table, teamed up with Tonks in a game of chess against Remus (which they were losing, naturally). Fleur was doing paperwork with Bill nearby (supposedly), and a pot of coffee on the table was powering the lot of them.

Kingsley went straight for Sirius. His hair was twisted up into a bun, held in place by his wand, and he had shaved just long enough ago to leave his face scruffy—just the way Kingsley liked it best.

He dropped the evidence box on the table just as Sirius looked up to acknowledge his presence.

"I did it," Kingsley gushed.

"Holy fuck," Tonks gasped when she saw the box, recognizing the label on its side. "Kingsley, are you mad?"

"Maybe," Kingsley admitted. He didn't feel mad, he felt good about this. "Don't tell Mad-Eye I did this or we'll never hear the end of it."

"Can one of you stop speaking Auror?" Fleur chimed in.

"This is an evidence box from the Auror Department Archives," Tonks explained. "Specifically, these are confiscated items—and if you look at the case number, 21-14-10-21-1920, that's the code specific to Sirius' dossier."

"These are my things?" Sirius interrupted, eyes widening.

Kingsley met his gaze and nodded. Sirius' eyes went from shock to blank to troubled and blank again. Kingsley chewed his lip and opened the box, tossing aside some tissue paper before pulling out a leather jacket. It was in that specific in-between state that only items that were both used daily and obsessively taken care of could be in. Otherwise, it was a leather jacket just as any other.

Sirius somehow became even more pale.

"I remember that jacket," Remus said with a grin.

Sirius looked at the jacket in Kingsley's hands for a second longer. Then he knocked over his king on the chess board.

"You win, Remus," he said quickly before slipping out of the kitchen.

Kingsley exchanged glances with Remus for a second as they deliberated over who should follow him out. Ultimately, Kingsley did, holding the jacket in his hands.

He found Sirius sitting on the balcony of one of the spare rooms—one that had been fortified with countless protective charms by Remus and the Aurors to keep Sirius safe. It was the closest thing to going outside that the man had, and Kingsley had had an inkling that he'd go there. Sirius had, after all, looked like he had been drowning for a second.

"May I join you?" Kingsley asked from across the screen door.

Sirius looked over his shoulder.

"Always," he said.

Kingsley stepped outside and waved his wand to turn on the hundreds of little lights hanging around the patio railing and around the door. He sat down on the ground next to Sirius and thought about what he wanted to say.

"I wanted to surprise you," Kingsley said. "I'm sorry if that wasn't the right thing to do. I tried thinking of what I would feel like if I were in your shoes—I know that's impossible, but I try, and… and I think I would want my things back. I wanted to start trying to bring yours back to you, bit by bit, so you'd have everything in one place."

"You're so impossibly sweet," Sirius sighed.

"Then what's the problem?" Kingsley asked, reaching out to take his hand.

Sirius tilted his hair back so that it was pressed against the house's wall. He chewed his lip.

"I thought that jacket had been burned," Sirius said. "I was wearing it when I was arrested. I know it just looks like a regular jacket, and you have no way of knowing this, but… but it was my first piece of Muggle clothing. I was wearing it the first time I held Harry. I survived a dozen of Order missions in it. I once told James to bury me wearing it, and Lily joked that that implied I'd ever take it off. I wore that thing everywhere, but I feel like a different person than I used to be, since I've been… free," Sirius said. He hesitated on the last word, and only settled on it as if he couldn't find anything better.

"I hate Azkaban," Kingsley said. "It's a godawful place. I don't think anybody can blame you for the ways it may have changed you."

"It's not that," Sirius said. He hesitated again. "You didn't know me before."

"That's true," Kingsley said. "Though I do hear marvelous things through Remus' vivid storytelling."

Sirius shifted again. "I worry that if you start digging into his past, you'll like that other man more."

He took the time to think about how to react to that. He threw the leather jacket over his shoulder and repositioned himself so that he was crouching in front of Sirius. He took both of his hands.

"I… I love you," Kingsley said. "In this completely baffling and unexpected way. I had no idea this would happen. I'm just here now, and I'm happy to be here with you. I don't want anything from you more than that."

He reached out and brushed a piece of hair away from Sirius' face, his hand hovering over Sirius' cheek. "Okay?"

"Okay," Sirius said, putting his hand over Kingsley's for a second. Kingsley smiled, and got up.

He pulled Sirius to his feet and back inside the house, stopping them in front of the mirror in the room. He helped Sirius back into his old leather jacket, and turned him towards the mirror. Sirius had obviously lost weight over the years in Azkaban, but the jacket still fit.

Kingsley wrapped his arms around his waist.

"I think you look as handsome as you could be in that thing," he said. Sirius leaned back against him, grinning.

"Is that so?"

"It so is," Kingsley said, burying his nose against Sirius' neck.

"Hmm. What else have you got in that box of yours, Auror Shacklebolt?"


	2. Photo Albums

**Author's Note: **Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings: **NA

* * *

**Stacked with: **MC4A; Shipping War; Hogwarts

**Individual Challenge(s): **Gryffindor MC; Bow Before the Blacks; Brush; Seeds; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Trope It Up C (Secret Relationship); Themes and Things A (Love); Themes and Things B (Loss); Ethnic & Present; True Colours; Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Flags & Ribbons; Letter of the Day; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Two Cakes!

**Word Count: ** 976

* * *

_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Kingsley Shacklebolt/Sirius Black

**List (Prompt): **Spring Medium 1 (Meet the family)

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**2.**

**Photo Album **

This, Sirius had inquired about and asked him for. And Kingsley, happy that Sirius was now onboard with his idea, wasn't about to make him wait for it—even if it was definitely much harder to find a specific item than to just grab one out of the record room.

Kingsley laid it on the kitchen table and brewed two cups of strong coffee before calling down Sirius, who had been helping Molly and the kids tear down the half-Acromantula spider webs on the third floor.

"Look who got off of work early," Sirius smiled.

"They said it was to make up for last week's overtime," Kingsley said, holding out an arm.

"I suppose I can forgive all those extra hours now, then," Sirius said. When he'd come close enough, Kingsley wrapped an arm around Sirius' waist and Sirius gave him the kind of quick kiss that he know associated with '_Welcome Home.'_

"What's this?" Sirius said, nudging his head towards the table.

"Your special request," Kingsley said. Sirius' eyes went wide and he let go of Kingsley more quickly than he ever had before, and circled the table to go sit in front of the photo album. Kingsley grabbed the seat next to him and sipped at his coffee, genuinely curious to see what was about to parade in the pages before them.

"Merlin," Sirius breathed. "Merlin, I hadn't known you were going to get this one…"

Some of the pictures seemed to go right back to Sirius' time in Hogwarts.

"Not really," Sirius said. "Just seventh year and the summer before—when I left home. I don't really have much before then… Merlin, there's Mrs Potter! See, she's showing James and I how to cook, Mr Potter thought that was hilarious and snapped a few…"

Kingsley nodded along and smiled at the photo, at James and Sirius throwing spices at each other in a loop. He saw another picture of who must have been Lily Evans trying to show James and Sirius and Peter Pettigrew how to do cartwheels down by the Black Lake's shores. There was another picture of Sirius and Remus with sugar wands hanging out of their mouths, the candy falling out of the frame when they lost their composure and burst out laughing. The lot of them grouping around James who was dressed for a Quidditch game, their faces adorned with yellow and red paint.

"Oh, Harry should see this. Wait… they _are _here!"

Sirius flipped eagerly to the back of the album and flickered a few pages and sure enough; there were baby pictures of a wild-haired baby.

"Hey, Harry!" Sirius called out into the house.

"Yeah?" a muffled voice shot back.

"Come here for a second!" Sirius called. "Sorry Molly, can you spare him?"

The answer to that was more garbled, but judging by the footsteps that followed, Harry was en route. He poked his head into the kitchen curiously.

"Hello Kingsley," he said politely.

"Good afternoon," Kingsley said, sitting up straight.

"Harry, you've got to come look at this," Sirius said, beckoning him over. "I don't think you've seen these before…"

Harry's eyes went wide when he looked.

"Is that me?" he asked.

"Sure is," Sirius grinned. He pointed to a photo of Lily and James curled up in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's, under a yellow blanket that must have been brought from home. A baby was resting against Lily's chest, and James had a hand resting on its back. "That's the day you were born."

"Whoa," Harry said.

Sirius drew a chair for Harry who settled down. He pointed to another photo of himself, as a much younger man with a much more sturdy build and healthier hair. He wore no facial hair, and a piercing Kingsley had never seen him wear went through his cartilage. He was standing in a hospital room, holding a baby Harry and beaming.

"First time I held you," Sirius said with a smile. "You burst into tears soon after because you wanted your mum, though."

"Sorry," Harry said.

Sirius burst out laughing. "I don't blame you. Besides, that's nothing compared to what you did to Peter. Maybe you knew something the rest of us didn't… Oh look, there's the lot of us painting your nursery. And each other… I'm sorry, Harry. This is the first photo album I filled, Merlin I was proud of that. But most of the pictures I have of you were in others..."

"I'll find them too," Kingsley immediately promised. Something in his stomach was gurggling in rage. If anybody had seen this carefully put together album, noticed the candor and intimacy of the photographs, and listened to Sirius' stories about the people in them, there was absolutely no way he would have been sent to Azkaban without a trial. Sirius' love, as Kingsley had already known, overflowed from the heart he wore on his sleeve.

"Can I look at the rest of your pictures here?" Harry asked. "Am I allowed even if I'm not in them?"

As they went through Sirius' photos, there were some faces and names that Kingsley recognized. Lily and James, Remus, Petter Pettigrew made the occasional appearance but was not spoken of, he vaguely knew Marlene McKinon from newspaper articles about her disappearance, the older Potters were frequent enough, and of course Kingsley recognized Alice and Frank Longbottom from the wall of fallen Aurors in the office. And it hit Kingsley that, maybe with the exception of Remus and this boy in front of him, this was the closest he would ever be to meeting Sirius' family.

He tried not to dwell on it too long. Sirius was chattering more than he'd talked in a long time, with Harry as a captive audience, and the energy that filled him seemed genuine and uplifting. Maybe this was enough. Or it would be.


End file.
